Polishing Memories
by Nerdene Hyrde
Summary: Glitchmice and polish bring up memories for a femme who's been made to forget who she is. Hyrde-verse, ocs.


Krash explores her memories... What few she has!

As always, we don't own Transformers or make any money from this.

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Merciful Universe, what a slow night. Could she at least have an asteroid field or another ship to dock up to…or something? Joyride, known as Krash to most, was just sitting at the helm, bored to rusted pieces. The autopilot was working again, so she really didn't have to stay there. Hmm…who would be wandering about this megacycle?

Ah, slaggit. This was PIT. She stumbled off the quarterdeck (blasted half-step) and made her way towards the rec room.

It was very common for Shadowsinger to be found in the rec room, taking advantage of the dimmed lights that night brought. He just... didn't recharge well alone, or more accurately he had trouble REACHING recharge. Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, light and soft, and he looked up to see a pale blue and chrome figure... Joyride. He grinned and waved, "Hey, Krash, long night?"

"Ach, you have no idea," she smiled at her friend, and bumped into a chair on the way over to sit next to him. She glared at the offending mass of inanimate metal before reaching her goal. "I do like the night, but everything's so quiet. What have you been up to, today? Anything interesting?" She spared a quick glance down at Shadowsinger's wheel-wings. Their uniqueness made them intriguing... enough of that! This was her CSO!

On the other hand…she'd gotten more than one full memory block of his extracurricular activities. She tore her optics back to his, hoping he didn't see her look.

Shadowsinger barely noticed as the femme checked him out, which was, he realized vaguely, a rather sad commentary on... something. "I like the quiet, though Ah' could d'thout thinkin' quite so much. Lessee... Oh, Silver' and I caught a glitchmouse. Fragger bit meh..." He held up an ivory finger as proof, a repairing wound visible on it. "S'now it's sittin' on my desk in an energon cube I had spare."

"A glitchmouse? Those things are hard—Oh, please tell me there's a recording of THAT?" She giggled at the reminder of the many times she'd had to catch those little destroyers. Her giggle turned to a slight frown. Where had THAT memory come from? Something about another ship being overrun with them…

Not that it mattered. She couldn't remember a fraggin' thing before Loki found her post-battle on K-94. But that wasn't a clever topic of conversation, so she cleared her expression and smiled again.

"Of course there is, and Silver' will be pissed I haven't deleted it yet. So yer not 'lowed to say where ya got it, k?" The mech didn't feel at all bad about promising a copy to Joyride, considering that he had come out much worse in that encounter than Silvershot had. "... Krash? Y'k?" He hadn't THOUGHT talking about glitchmice would be anything to frown over... well, okay, the fact that they still had to go through the ship and make sure his new pet didn't have any friends or relatives might be cause to frown...

"Um…yeah. I'm fine. Amnesia acting up again." She looked askance at him. He seemed to be a pretty open minded mech. Perhaps… "Would—I mean, I was remembering another ship. I hadn't really done that before. It had glitchmice. A lot of them, actually." Joyride chuffed a quiet laugh. "I've been bitten my fair share, as well." Glancing at the injured finger, she asked, "Did you get it clean? Wouldn't want rust setting in."

Aaah, right, this was the femme with memory loss. "I see. I need to organize a sweep, actually, make sure there's only ONE glitchmouse on board..." He grinned up at her, "You could help." Noticing she was looking at his finger, he moved it towards her so she could inspect it. "I think I got it clean, sucked on in for a while. You wanna take a look?"

She blinked down at the finger thrust in front of her. "You didn't clean it?" She cycled air slowly in and out of her vents, pulled a cleaning kit out of her subspace and grabbed the smaller hand to begin a thorough polishing. "You've got to get it really clean." Why was she focusing on something so…inconsequential? The wound would heal itself fine, without any further ministrations from her, but the reality was that she wanted to ask about that memory. Something about the color reminded her of Shadowsinger. Now why would that be? She glanced over. "I—I'd love to help." Her optics fell to the nicely warm hand in hers as she rubbed cleaning solution on with a cloth. "It would be infinitely more interesting than sitting at the helm, staring into space." She smiled and looked back. "And I'd love to see the footage. I'll never tell anyone, but…" She slowed her vent cycles. Too fast. "Can I ask you a question?" She continued before her bravado left her, "Why is your room the color it is?" There. That was a safe enough question, right?

"You're pretty good at that... You're welcome t'elp, as long as you're sure we won't knock into anything while you're not at the helm," Shadowsinger said, engine purring slightly as the femme rubbed at him carefully. Her question made his optics flicker, "My room? When did you see... I mean... Ah, because I like that color, I always have... for a long time, anyway." Since about the time the war started... Well, it wasn't a lie that he'd always liked cool colors.

Oh Slag! That wasn't—oh slag oh slag oh slag. She kept her expression stoic and finished polishing the rapidly healing wound. "There." She let go of his hand and put away her cleaning kit. "All you need is a good rubbing—I mean POLISH." Primus, she was digging a DEEP hole for herself. "And you'll be good as new." She stood up so he couldn't see her failing expression. She needed emergency reverse thrusters on her vocalizers. Pronto. Still, he hadn't seemed offended…just surprised. "The navigation system is fine. We won't have any problems for at least a few megacycles. Where shall we start?" She turned back, afraid of his reaction, but determined to find out why his room and that ship of her memory were the exact same color. Maybe not that they were the same color, but that the color itself was suspiciously familiar…

Shadowsinger tried not to let any of his amusement show in his voice or expression, "Are you offering to POLISH me, Joyride? Because we are NOT going glitchmouse hunting tonight. Unless you want to start in my room after polishing me and catching some recharge..." Okay, so he hadn't quite kept the suggestive purr out of his voice... but he HAD kept the amusement out! He grinned, lightening the seduction to something that could easily be ignored, just in case it really HAD been nothing more than an amusing slip of her glossa. It was odd, in frame and color she reminded him very much of Havok... but anytime Joyride moved or spoke... well, Loki had nicknamed her 'Krash' for a reason.

"Oh. Of course you're not." What was she supposed to do now? She was really interested in… "Oh!" She looked back at Shadowsinger with wide optics. Decepticons! That ship belonged to Decepticons. How…? Her vents stuttered in surprised confusion, what about Shadowsinger made her remember that? Perhaps if she spent more time with him she'd find out. Smiling sweetly at him, she changed course for the evening. "Well, I did say that you needed one, didn't I? I've a reputation with an orbital buffer." Krash surveyed the rec room for a good spot, not finding one. Her method of polishing wasn't something she wanted the whole crew to know about. "I bet I could send you into the best recharge you've had in a long time, but I'd prefer you to be someplace comfortable. Where do you suggest?"

"Oh?" Shadowsinger repeated, neutrally curious. "What's with th'look? An'... well, if 'tis gonna send me t'recharge, might as well in my room. Less y'got a problem with seeker wings... And canopies..." With a shrug, he grinned at Joyride. She was good at keeping expressionless, but slipped when things surprised her... It might be fun to see if he could help her overcome that flaw... And maybe even teach her about watching her body language, it might be nice having someone else around who could switch which faction would feel comfortable around her just by shifting kinesics...

Someday she was going to gain control over her reactions. Put her behind the ship's controls and she could fly one-handed through an asteroid field while in pursuit, but anything else…she cycled her vents again. "Just surprised, that's all." It wasn't a lie, per se. Really. "I have no problem with souvenirs. It's not really a secret that you and Loki have a collection going." She grinned and motioned for the mech to, "Lead the way." Good thing she'd replaced the buffing pad on her orbital the other day. She checked her subspace for her favorite wax to make sure there was enough, then looked to follow Shadowsinger out of the rec room.

"One of the tricks is t'stop anticipatin'. And Ah' find it best t'keep a default expression, like m'grinin'," Shadowsinger commented, knowing quite well how much of a nonsequiter it seemed. "Loki's the one with the collection, I just got gifted some pieces." While he spoke, he led the way through the halls, half following the blue-green stripe. In his office, he motioned, "There, that's Silvershot... I should move it to an actual cage soon..." And then he opened the door to his private quarters and stepped in, relaxing visibly.

What was he talking about? Anticipating? Default…Ohhh. Wow, was she that transparent? She made a recording of that and noted to watch for the next time Shadowsinger was grinning. Hesitating imperceptibly at the door to his office, she looked where he indicated the glitchmouse. Silvershot? She laughed, "So, Silvershot caught the little blighter, then?" She was careful not to disturb the cube, but peered into it. Exactly as she remembered. Hmm.

Krash straightened and followed Shadowsinger into the steely-blue room. There were the wings…and the canopy…and the berth. Her optics found Shadow. "Lay down. Relax." She grinned, but her optics kept traveling back to the impressive wing array. "All three of them, eh?"

"Silver' got the blighter off my finger. And there's already a petro-rabbit named after meh somewhere, so didn't wanna make things even more confusin'," Shadowsinger explained, laying down as instructed. "Y'can touch 'em, they don't bite. Loki got Screamer's, but then she let me help with TC and 'Warp. Ooh, d'ya need more light? I know I keep things kinda dim..." Almost no reaction, and he knew that right now his room projected a very Decepticon atmosphere. He planned on getting more possessions scattered about, that would make it more welcoming, but he'd been too busy in his new post to actually acquire many mementos.

"Really? You wouldn't mind me touching…them?" She grinned and stepped closer to the array, remembering his suggestion of keeping her reaction less evident. The room was so sparse. She focused on the memory—closer to seeing the face of the Decepticon next to her, making her catch glitchmice as a punishment, laughing at her—while reaching out and sliding one hand along the slick edge of a blue wing. "Um…whatever you wish for lighting is fine. If you want it darker, that's fine too." There wasn't any more to see of her memory. Just faint smudges of red against the steel blue walls…just like…Starscream? She didn't want to pause too long on that set of wings. Shadowsinger wasn't exactly quiet about his dislike of the Air Commander. She fought to keep the smile on her faceplates. What did this mean?

Nothing. It meant absolutely nothing out of context. She stepped up to his berth and started pulling her buffing equipment out of her subspace, laying it out methodically. Waxing pad, detail cloth…purple or gray wax? Hmm. She glanced at her patient and grinned. Purple. The good stuff, definitely. "Do you have any last requests?" She chuckled, knowing he might misinterpret, wondering if he'd suggest a place for her to focus her ministrations.

His wheels twitched at the odd phrasing and he shrugged, and then Shadowsinger gave a faint hiss as he caught sight of some very familiar wax... "Where did you get that? I've only known a couple of mechs who used it, and I've not been able to find it on my own." Very deliberately, the mech avoided mentioning that the mechs who'd used it were both Decepticons. ...Although that did bring to mind that he should probably ask Loki if Sunstreaker maybe knew how to get some, if any Autobot knew, it would be Sunny...

She looked down at the bottle in her hand. "Um…I don't know. I've had it as long as I can remember…which is admittedly a short amount of time. Is it okay if I use it? It's really good." She needed to key down her euphemisms. He'd literally twitched. That wasn't conducive to relaxation, and her goal was to have Shadowsinger nice and relaxed. Relaxed enough to possibly answer some questions if she was very careful. "Um…who…did you know that used it? I haven't been able to find it either." Who'd have thought that little things like glitchmice and polishing wax would help her learn something about her past? She looked expectantly at the beautiful mech stretched out before her.

"Oh, I know... though I'm not sure if I'm quite scratched to warrant it..." Of course, being far from a vain mech, he probably had an absurd number of scuffs and dings that he had simply forgotten about. He clicked, resting his head in his arms, "Ah, that's the problem, why I was hoping YOU knew where to get it... See, one's a 'con and the other's a former 'con and I haven't seen either of them since before I came on board. So, well... I guess I could ask Loki if Sunny knows how t'get it..." Considering shortly, Shadowsinger decided he might as well ask, let her know she could discuss it with him, "Think y'mighta been a 'con...? But that doesn't fit..." From everything he knew, she had born no faction markings when found, and her optics had not been red. Not that every Decepticon had red optics...

Krash looked over the ivory and purple frame facedown on the berth, assessing the scratches he said he didn't have. "You've got enough to warrant the good stuff." She chuckled and dabbed a bit of cleaning solution onto a textured cloth and lightly started cleaning his back, paying careful attention to seams and connections—anywhere that might catch debris and dirt that would scratch him more during polish. "Turn on your side for me?" As he adjusted, she couldn't help appreciating the view. She smiled as she met his optics and continued cleaning. That was awfully nice of him to so cleanly break the ice for her. "I think…I think I was at least UNDER a 'con." The memory was still hazy at the edges, but seemed to be clearing up the more she focused on it. "I don't think I was one of them. It just doesn't fit, like you said." She kept her touch deft and light, but couldn't help lingering on the seams along his chassis. And his cannon was just begging for a good detail. She bit back a whimper of appreciation and took the chance of explaining a bit more. "I remember…someone…laughing at me and making me catch glitchmice as a punishment. There were A LOT of them, so it really was a punishment. The ship was the same color as your room. That's why I asked, earlier."

"Ah, well... I guess I don't always keep track of my cosmetic damage..." He couldn't help but stretch a little as he turned as requested. Krash didn't seem to want to do any more than look, but Shadowsinger certainly didn't mind giving her a NICE view. "'Con pet. I'd heard that some kept such..." Oooh, she was good at cleaning, taking far more care then he ever did... "I know there's a score in my canon, would you mind not buffing it out? It doesn't effect anything... And yeah, my room... would give most 'bots a fit, it's almost exactly like a Decepticon's... I just, like the color." He grinned quickly, "Same way Prime likes her purple."

She paused at the canon, noting the score mark. "Not a pet, really. I think pet would imply something more than what I feel I was. It feels more…I don't know…less personal. Lay flat." Where did that come from? Packing away the cleaning solution, she revved up the orbital buffer and winked at Shadowsinger. It spun to a stop and she dabbed some polish on the pad and some onto her patient's torso. A few experimental swirls to get her rhythm and the machine was humming and slipping across his armor happily. She worked her way up, sure to be careful around his collar seam and very gently polished the sigil on his shoulder, picking up the orbital at an angle so as not to sling wax onto his faceplates. She looked more closely at the scratch in his cannon and fingered the line. "Memento?"

Shadowsinger didn't even try to stop the pleased shiver that the attention brought. It was very sensual, not charging, not the way she was doing it, but... hum, decadent. Yes, that was the word, decadent. He wondered suddenly if his Creator had ever had anyone do something like this for him... such a high powered senator, surely he had. Joyride's polishing was different from the one Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had given him, too, likely from the fact she used a tool and not her hands. "Mmm... memento, yes... my Dark Brother gave it to me the first time we interfaced. He'd laugh if he knew how sentimental I'm being about it, same way as..." he shook his head, there was no need to go into that.

Krash carefully avoided responding to Shadowsinger's last remark. "I don't keep a lot of knick knacks, either. I like it simple." No need to explain that she had no idea what to decorate her room in. Instead, she focused on polishing a bit more. He was so lovely and slender, shivering under the orbital's thrumming. She finished the upper half and worked her way down to the lower half, ducking her head to hide her guilty smile. She so completely loved working on legs. It felt so nice to be able to touch…instead of just watching.

There. Every surface on Shadow's front was successfully coated with wax, now it just needed to dry. She cycled air through her vents and let the trigger go on the machine. She lowered her tone to barely audible and explained, "I think I'd better let you dry a bit and then polish that wax off before moving to your back. Wouldn't want to disturb your relaxation too much, now would we?" Switching out the machine for her favorite soft cloth, she judged her first ministrations dry enough to start rubbing.

How nice, she didn't press for more... "Relaxin'... o' puttin' t'sleep, 'Ride?" It was weird... no, it wasn't, actually. His first night with Havok, he had thought such attention might be lulling... Shadowsinger had just never thought he'd have occasion to find out. "Ah mos'ly wasn't 'loud t'keep stuff... R'bat kept f'gettin' Ah was person..." He had learned the lesson too well, never refer to Ratbat as Creator... why was he even talking about the now-cassette? "S'pose is good thing y'like it simple, assume yer owner wouldn' allow ya t'keep things..."

Success! He was babbling. She tried very hard not to let her eager interest show. "I won't be upset if you fall into recharge, but let me get you finished up front so you can flip over and then you'll be free to sleep if you wish." Seams and lines, each crease and divot was paid careful attention with the final polishing cloth. The orbital was great for getting the wax on, but one really needed the dexterity of hands to polish it off. It was no hardship to rub his lithe chassis, either. "That's interesting that you say that. I feel like I'd get too connected to things when I've had to learn the hard way that they just get taken away. Je—Jetstream?" She dabbed polish with another cloth onto Shadow's faceplates, close enough to almost lean in to his mouth. Surprise leached that temptation from her processors as she realized she'd just spoken the name of her captor. "Have you ever heard of a seeker named Jetstream?"

"'Zactly! Dun' wanna let y'be PEOPLE, s'don' let ya..." Shadowsinger was not used to feeling like someone actually understood what that was like. Even his beautiful Dark Brother... Well, no, Megatron, as odd as it might seem, had understood... but it was nice to have someone HERE who did. Blue optics flickered as Shadowsinger belatedly realized he had been asked a question again... 'She's good,' the thought wandered in, but he wasn't quite in a state to make sense of it. "Jetstream...? 'Tain't more'n familiar... Should ask Loki... She'd letcha lookit wings..."

His open dialogue did not go unappreciated. It was a rare thing for someone to be so forthcoming with her, accustomed as she was to just watching from the shadows. Now that Shadow was commiserating with her. It felt…good. She felt a little part of her open up that she hadn't realized had been shut. "That sounds like a good idea. I'll try to catch her next shift." Had he caught the little warble in her vocals? She gently rubbed the dried polish off his faceplates, obsessively removing every remnant from every line. It was amazing how much she'd 'learned' in the past few breems. Leaning back to observe her handiwork, she saw one more spot and gave it a rub. "Okay, time to flip over."

Flipping over meant moving... meant sitting up. Shadowsinger managed to do that, and then looked at Joyride. She looked... lonely? Yes, lonely, something in the way she held herself... clinging to the shadows and observing, he'd been there before quite often, though Loki was dragging him out more and more. Was she as hungry for touch as he had sometimes been? Acting on impulse, the pale mech reached over and embraced Joyride, stroking her back gently for a moment before twisting over and again cushioning his head in his arms as he lay down, presenting his back for her to finish polishing.

Stunned. She held herself still while her fritzed processors absorbed that she'd just been touched without provocation, without necessity, without anything but…friendship. He really did know how she felt. Vents cycled a little less than quietly as she regained control of her emotions. Oh, Shadowsinger was SO going to get the best polish of his life! She picked up the orbital again and administered the purple cream over his back, then picked up the waxing cloth and dabbed it over his wheel-wings, steering clear of the tires. "Th-thank you. You're probably the only person on board who realizes how much that meant to me." She stopped as soon as she started shaking and tripped her coolant system in an attempt to calm down. Cycle air, calm down. One last little puff and she was steady enough to resume waxing with dedication.

"When Ah was younger... would have killed t'trade places with Ravage jus' once..." Shadowsinger observed softly, arching up as she gently applied wax to his shocks. "Loki likes t'cuddle, though she don't quite get... it..." He hadn't expected Krash to be quite so affected... no, that wasn't right, he hadn't actually thought out how she might respond to his action at all. It made no difference, he would have done it either way.

She let the wax set up and put away the orbital buffer while calculating her next words. Somehow she knew his mentioning the two cassettes was rare, something in the way Shadow said the names a shade more quietly. "It kind of makes touch more special, doesn't it?" Krash looked at the drying swirls of wax, realizing the irony of what she just said. But then, it wasn't that ironic, was it? Shadowsinger deserved a 'thank you' for helping her—albeit unknowingly—to remember, so this was special. The cloth in her hand was soft with a nice heft and she concentrated on keeping her ministrations firm but not heavy, stroking long and slow over the spindles and shocks. When she could see her reflection in the shining metal, she moved on to the backs of his legs. She couldn't tell how far gone he was. Her question had been rhetorical, anyway. He knew she knew the answer. Her spark pulsed happily at the progress she'd made, not only personally, but quite possibly having someone to guide her through the murky depths of functioning society.

"Mm-hm," a small agreeing noise, Shadowsinger really didn't feel up to much more than that. "Could recharge wi'meh if y'wan..." He made the offer drowsily, already mostly gone. It was far from a rare offer, already a fair portion of the crew had recharged with him, but they had all, apart from Blowout, interfaced with him first. Interfaced and/or gotten overcharged... What he was offering Joyride was simply contact trough the night, even if everyone one board would assume more.

If any one else on the ship had offered her that, she would have refused. Even as she craved contact with others, it was a difficult thing to allow after so long without it. As far as she knew, she'd never interfaced with another…but no one else knew or expected that. Shadowsinger was quickly becoming dear to her, and that was something entirely new, in the regard that she'd not allowed herself that since being taken in by the Hyrde's crew. Perhaps now was time. "I'd like that," she whispered and finished up a last little dim spot on his cannon. She looked around and found the light toggle, darkened the room and slipped quietly onto the recharge berth with Shadow. He hadn't moved, but she reached out and tentatively snuck her smallest digit to rest next to his arm. He was nice and warm, and she fell asleep with thoughts of glitchmice and friends dancing through her processor.

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